


Vessels

by dragonflythemuse



Category: One Piece
Genre: (that isn't ever really mentioned but Rowan IS trans), First Kiss, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:53:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24872590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonflythemuse/pseuds/dragonflythemuse
Summary: Pottery is an escape for Vice Admiral Smoker. He loves being able to shape his emotions into a physical creation, expressing his emotions in an obscure way that he finds comfort in. He doesn't let others watch him throw clay, but the ships doctor has charmed him and he finds him wanting to see him more and more. So he teaches him how to make vessels.
Relationships: Smoker (One Piece)/Original Character(s), Smoker (One Piece)/Original Male Character(s), Smoker (One Piece)/Rowan (OC)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	Vessels

**Author's Note:**

> I made Rowan trans so this might be a little funky compared to my other fics so far. But yuh. Enjoy!

Smoker loved the feeling of cool wet clay glide through his fingers. He was often afraid to appear soft and gentle - which was usually reflected in his touch - and preferred hard and rigidness. But throwing clay let his fingertips dance over the material he worked with. He willed form into his craft. 

Sharing his studio was taboo. It was his safe space, where he could clear his head, put his anger and frustrations into something physical. It was quiet, silent, and all he could hear was the sound of the wheel spinning as he shaped the earthly material. 

However, ever so slowly, he had allowed someone into the studio. It was the equivalent of him opening his heart, and he would pray to whatever god existed that they wouldn’t take advantage of him. But somehow, he knew the doctor of the G-5 fleet wouldn’t dare. Somehow he had gained the trust of his men, so, eventually, the Vice Admiral caved. 

He didn’t know how. Maybe it was the fact that the smaller man offered his help until his near death after his leg was chopped off during a pirate raid, crawling across the deck of the ship leaving a trail of blood after him. The fact that he prioritized the lives of his men more than his own. The fact that he knew Smoker wouldn’t accept help until his men had, so he always checked on him last. 

Maybe it was the quiet time they spent together doing paperwork, the quiet mornings where the doctor would watch Smoker train on the deck of the ship while drinking his coffee. It was the mutual understanding that even though they were a part of the most rambunctious and careless crew, the quiet hours of dawn and night were important and special. 

The gesture hadn’t gone unnoticed. The doctor allowed Smoker to ring the bell next to his sign any time, regardless of the hour, for anything. Whenever the Vice Admiral went to his door, he always read the sign. 

_Lieutenant Tasaka Rowan_  
Surgeon and Doctor of the G-5 Marine Fleet  
Ring the bell if you need me - regardless of the time! 

Reading it always helped him feel at home. Smoker was never a fan of doctors. Because he was careless and often prepared to take a wound for his men, doctors often berated him and his actions. “Be more careful” or “stop putting yourself at risk” had become an annoyance. But not once had Rowan given him that. He had only said “are you okay?” or “please tell me if you need anything else”. He never looked down at Smoker for that nor acted like he knew him better. 

Those words were enough for Smoker to give him trust. Once they had gotten close enough, Rowan offered to help with paperwork that would pile up on Smoker’s desk. He, the Vice Admiral, and Tashigi would stay up until ungodly hours working away until the pile had been gone through. His work was appreciated. 

Smoker knew the doctor was a good man. He could feel it. The doctor had told him many personal things, so it was obvious that Rowan saw the good in Smoker, so to him, it was only fair he returned that trust. 

It only took a few weeks after a deep conversation that Smoker began to think more and more about Rowan. It kept going and he even began appearing in his dreams. His brain could not shake the doctor. Yet he didn’t mind. He craved being in his space and he found himself going to his clinic more often than not. Yet he would always go in without a solid reason or a conversation. So the time was always awkward. As much as he was uncomfortable with it, he decided that it was time to break down his own walls.

It started when Smoker told Rowan about his hobby - pottery. The light in Rowan’s clear eye shone brighter than he had ever seen.

“Wow, I’d never take you for someone to do pottery. But it makes sense because you’re always so calm and level headed. I can only imagine how helpful pottery is for concentration despite stress and frustration.”

“You could call it a type of therapy.”

“If you’re comfortable, I would love to see some of your pieces.”

If you’re comfortable. The fact that Smoker’s comfort about being open with his craft was Rowan’s priority made the Vice Admiral’s heart flutter in his chest. 

“Well,” Smoker started. “Have you seen Tashigi’s favorite mug?”

Smoker watched the connection be made in Rowan’s face. “No way!”

A small smile escaped Smoker’s lips. “Have you ever thrown clay?”

“No.”

A brief silence passed where Smoker thought about what to do next. “Would you want to?”

Rowan gasped with excitement. “Would you really? I know how important your studio is to you so I don’t want to intrude.”

“You wouldn’t intrude when I’m asking you to come.”

A smile spread on both of their faces. 

The two of them frequently threw clay and made vessels together. Rowan was the only person allowed in the studio. Tashigi came in every now and then to update Smoker or to tell him something but she never lingered longer than a few moments. Rowan was the only person who could stay in the studio, who could touch Smoker’s clay, who could invade his space with peace.

There was something relieving about Smoker opening himself up to allow a second person into his space. He never opened himself this much and with that he never realized how much he was holding himself back. It was refreshing. Rowan was extremely refreshing. 

He could tell Rowan was relaxed as well. Sometimes he would find Rowan sitting on the floor of the studio, reading a book or writing in a journal. He wouldn’t blame him nor feel bothered. He would simply go about his business and throw clay while Rowan existed comfortably in his space. 

Rarely would they talk as they mingled in the space. They allowed their movements and actions to speak for them and they had become fluent in each other's body language. As they worked together, they soon began to speak through touches, light and feathery but heavy enough to tell each other that they were genuine. 

They began to realize something about each other. Smoker grew more and more excited to see Rowan next and to work with him. And Rowan sought more and more comfort from the other marine. It had grown to the point where the two were never far from each other. It never helped when Smoker would have to suppress his constant thought of how attractive Rowan looked. His vitiligo gave him the blessing of beautiful patterns across his body and the eye he could see through was a deep chocolate that Smoker wanted to drown in. He hated how attracted he was to him. He was struggling to suppress his attraction to the doctor.

It reached a boiling point in the studio where Rowan was attempting to create a vessel with a new style, but he made frequent errors. He grew increasingly frustrated with himself as his work continued to crumble. With his frustrations, Smoker found himself offering his help by sitting behind him on the stool. He was pressed against Rowan’s back, wrapping his arms around his body to help guide his hands through a piece. His chin was rested on his shoulder and he spoke through the steps as they worked. 

Rowan could feel the vibrations of Smoker’s deep voice in his back and he couldn’t lie about the fact that their bodies together brought a sort of comfort that he had longed for. It was somewhat distracting him from the vessel that he and the Vice Admiral were throwing together, but as they progressed, his focus slowly began centering back on the craft. Slowly, the two of them formed a rather smooth looking vase.

After they had removed it from the pottery wheel, glazed it and set it in the kiln, they turned to look at each other, a smile on both of their faces. 

“I almost lost you there, Ro.” 

“I was getting really frustrated. But thank you for helping me. This is our first collaborative piece isn’t it?”

“Yeah. What do you want to do with it?”

“I feel like it would make a beautiful vase for flowers. Where would we put it?”

“If it goes on my desk, it’ll probably bumped off and shatter. Considering you worked really hard on this, I think you should take it.”

“You helped me,” Rowan retorted. 

“Yes. Take it anyway. The clinic will look really nice with it.”

After thinking for a bit, Rowan nodded. “Alright. If you won’t argue, I’ll take it.”

“Please do.”

Rowan reached out and touched Smoker’s arm. “Thanks for letting me make pottery with you, Smoker. The fact that you let me just. Means a lot to me. It’s nice being this close to someone.”

The Vice Admiral found his hand drifting over Rowan’s. “Likewise. I’ve never let anyone come in here to work. It’s… nice to have someone else to work with, you know?”

Rowan smiled and nodded. “We’re a dynamic duo aren’t we?” Smoker felt his breath get caught in his throat. Some sort of partnership was exactly what he wanted. While Tashigi was his work partner thick and thin, Smoker wanted someone he was able to share his life with. He wanted someone he could confide in and trust and give his attention to when he was feeling caring. 

It struck him that Rowan could easily be that person. He cared for his safety in the quiet way Smoker loved. He shared similar hobbies and appreciated similar values. But at the same time, Rowan wasn’t afraid to get snappy with him when Smoker was crossing a line. He would unleash his own dogs on him and show no mercy. 

Whenever Smoker found himself hurt, the soft hands of Rowan were always there to brush over his skin and to heal him and comfort him. He had never met someone who was so gentle with him. Rowan treated him like one of his creations, and not because he was afraid, but because he saw Smoker as something valuable. He saw Smoker not fragile, but important and he didn’t want him to break under his care. 

So when Rowan turned to wash his skin of the clay that had dried, Smoker found himself grabbing his wrist to prevent him from moving away. The doctor turned, eyes colorful and curious, full of passion and want. Smoker dared himself to speak.

“Can you keep a secret?”

Rowan smiled and decided to tease him slightly. “I’m a doctor. I keep secrets professionally.”

Smoker smiled and pulled Rowan closer to him. “Don’t tell the rest of the crew this, okay?”

“My lips are sealed.”

“They sure are.” 

Smoker cupped Rowan’s face with his dusty palm, the remnants of wet clay getting on Rowan’s speckled cheek. After staring into his eyes to look for a sign that he should stop, he found none and moved forward, pressing his lips against the doctor’s, kissing him with a sense of urgency, as if the world would come to an end should their lips not meet.

Rowan hummed in surprise to the kiss despite expecting and hoping for it. He wrapped his arms around Smoker’s neck, easily giving into the physical attention that he was receiving. He couldn’t help but laugh internally at how sloppy the kiss was, but he couldn’t deny that it made him want more of it. Eventually, as the kiss drew out longer, Smoker seemed to gather himself and it grew to something passionate and somehow romantic. Their lips danced with each other, arms full with their bodies until they had to pull away for air. 

Smoker couldn’t help but breathe out a soft “wow” when he opened his eyes and saw Rowan’s eyes blown by the kiss. He was smitten. They stared at each other silently before they dove back into each other’s space, pressing their lips against each other. They turned ever so slightly, allowing Smoker to push the doctor into the wall. He felt the fingers of the surgeon crawl up his scalp, running hands through his hair as their lips clashed. 

Gentle gasps escaped their mouths as they continued to kiss, grasping at each other’s skin. Eventually, the two of them pulled away. Smoker rested his forehead against Rowan’s, letting his hand fall to his hips. The two of them looked into each others eyes and the doctor smiled, his hands touching the soft strands of white hair. 

“Was that the secret?” asked the doctor quietly.

“Yeah. I hope you understood what all it meant.”

“Just for clarity’s sake, could you tell me? I don’t want to get mixed signals from that.”

A pink glow grew on Smoker’s cheeks. He carefully maneuvered his hand to gently stroke the hair on Rowan’s chin. He shifted uncomfortably before exhaling slowly. 

“I have… a lot of feelings towards you. Feelings I haven’t really explored before but… I want to explore them with you.” Smoker looked into Rowan’s eyes. “I get excited whenever you come to the studio to work. And there’s a reason why I kept going to the clinic. I just… want to be around you any moment I can get.” 

Smoker gently nuzzled his face into Rowan’s hair, exhaling slowly to attempt to release the butterflies in his stomach. He didn’t want to let go of the doctor in fear of losing him and never feeling his warmth again. He felt a slight tremble and he moved to look at Rowan once more. He was smiling.

“Oh, Smoker. I feel the same way.”

“You do?”

“Yes. I’m in love with you, Smoker.”

Smoker couldn’t help but smile. He pressed a gentle kiss on Rowan’s lips. “I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> For the longest time I've been thinking about how Smoker and Rowan admit their feelings for each other and I just found out that Smoker's hobby of throwing clay is canon! So I wanted to write a little thing about it. I've also been looking at a lot of Smoker art and my love for him has skyrocketed.


End file.
